As the room buzzed with oblivious laughter and chatter, Orpheus was locked in a silent battle with his own emotions. The line between restraint and eruption was as thin as a whisper, a whisper that Ilyas never failed to deliver with a snarky expression and a cool gaze.
Orpheus felt his heart rate pick up quicker as the closeness between them became inescapable. Their eyes were locked into each others in a fiery test of wills, the tensions building with each heavy and angered breath. Orpheus could feel the heat that radiated off of his own body.
“Well, I must admit, your sharp tongue only adds to your allure.” Ilyas’ flirtations were not lost to Orpheus. Orpheus knew of his methods of deflection, a subtle wink, a witty compliment to pull your mind from the truth. Orpheus had seen these methods work on others, on his love interests, on his friends, and Orpheus would be damned before he allowed them to work on him too.
“I cannot say I find yours as amusing, Ilyas. Someone should do something about that mouth of yours…” Orpheus fought his own mind, attempting to pull himself out of the place he was sinking into. His eyes darting briefly to Ilyas’ lips as he contemplated his next move.
How satisfying would his fist feel against those very lips?
“Maybe I should whisper sweet nothings in your ear, Orpheus. It may bring out your charming side.” Ilyas’ voice was an ever agitating reminder of every aspect of Orpheus’ life he had failed in. Each relationship and romance that fizzled underneath Ilyas’ presence.
He was the sole cause of everything wrong in Orpheus’ life.
He always had been. He always would be.
“Maybe I should shut your mouth for you since you seem to be unsure of when to stop moving it.” Orpheus spoke slowly, deeply, his voice reaching a darkened rasp he did not know it held.
As quickly as the words fell from his mouth, Orpheus grabbed Ilyas, forced him from his seat and back into a lone corner of the bar out of public view.
Orpheus felt his hands grip Ilyas’ shoulder so tight, for a moment, he thought he might break it.
Orpheus slammed Ilyas against the back bar wall, his eyes dark and cold now.
Orpheus held one hand on Ilyas’ shoulder, the other, gripping right underneath that matured and chiseled jaw.
His hands wrapped dangerously tight around Ilyas’ neck, careful not to squeeze too hard, but hard enough to shut him up, his fingers wrapping up around his mouth as he held him.
“Keep talking…” Orpheus’ words came as a half-plead, half-threat.
In his drunken state, every inhibition he had ever held back was slowly fading. Orpheus knew his father would be livid with the current state of Orpheus’ position, having a future Duke pinned to a dirty bar wall, yet Orpheus could not let go. Each memory of Ilyas’ torment played over and over in his mind, a continued reminder of the pain he had caused throughout the years. His composure slipped into the bottom of his port bottle, and he had absolutely no desire to pick it back up.
The deep-seated anger of his past forced his hands to grip Ilyas tighter and tighter…
mentioned:
Ilyas (@Madilfill)